War Games and Water Guns
by WingedPegasus
Summary: What would happen if Atlantis held war games—but with water guns instead of Intars? Oneshot humor fic. Reviews are loved!


Disclaimer: I own none of the Stargate franchise.

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War Games and Water Guns

Sheppard sidled up to the corner of the darkened hallway, hugging the wall as closely as possible. Holding his weapon tightly to his chest, he peeked around the corner into the corridor beyond. There was no movement, save for the ancient dust drifting through a shaft of light from the windows. He stealthfully crept into the hall, all his senses on the alert for the enemy. Footsteps sounded in the corridor ahead, and he ducked into a nearby cubbyhole. His hidden pursuer stopped for a moment, as though listening. Then the footsteps started again, echoing in the emptiness of the corridor as they faded into the distance. Releasing the breath he had been holding, John contemplated what had gotten him into this whole situation . . .

Two days ago, John had been on his way to the mess hall when Major Lorne came running behind him, grinning like a kid on Christmas.

"Colonel Sheppard!" the major called.

John stopped and waited for Lorne to catch up. "What's up, Major?" he asked.

"Sir, the Daedalus just landed!" Lorne replied excitedly.

A look of bewilderment crossed Sheppard's face. "And this is cause for celebration?" he asked.

"Don't you remember?" asked Lorne incredulously.

"Um . . . "

"The Intars came on this shipment! You know, for the war games the day after tomorrow. The entire military contingent's been looking forward to this!" Lorne exclaimed.

Recognition flooded John's countenance. "Oh! Yeah, the war games! That's right. Well, you have fun checking that out. I'm gonna go grab some lunch, OK?"

The major nodded. "I will, sir!" he replied and headed back down the corridor.

John shook his head, smiled, and continued on his way.

He was halfway through his sandwich when a significantly less exuberant Lorne walked in through the door. In fact, the man looked downright disgruntled. Sheppard waved him over, curious as to what had upset him. The major walked over and plunked his tray down with a sigh.

"Something wrong, Lorne?" John asked.

"You could say that," he sighed.

John took a bite of his sandwich and began to chew. "Care to elaborate?" he asked, his mouth full.

"Well, we didn't get Intars, sir," the major said dejectedly. "We got water guns." John nearly choked on his sandwich. "We got _what?_" he asked.

A hint of a smile appeared on the major's face. Apparently, his disappointment had been somewhat alleviated by the expression on his CO's face. "Water guns, sir. Supersoakers, Liquidators, even some splash rockets and water bombs. You name it, we got it. Complete with a letter of explanation from earth."

Lorne handed the open-mouthed colonel a piece of paper. Sheppard quickly unfolded it and scanned the text it contained.

_As you may have noticed, your Intars aren't exactly as you would have expected. Unfortunately, we shipped out the last of them to our alpha site a few weeks ago and won't have them back for a while. So, I decided to order these weapons as a replacement for the time being. Try not to kill each other._

—_General O'Neill_

Sheppard couldn't help but smile.

Two days later, at 11:30 a.m., the mess hall was crammed full of war game participants. Elizabeth stepped to the front of the room and shouted for everyone to be quiet, then started to speak. "As most of you already know, this war game is going to be quite a bit different from others you many have participated in, the reason being that our shipment of Intars turned out to be water guns."

Some snickers broke out from the ranks, but quickly quieted down.

"Notwithstanding, the games will still be held," Elizabeth continued. "The games officially begin at 1200 hours and end at 1600 hours back here in the mess hall. We will have a prize for the driest person, but all contenders must be in the mess hall at 1600 hours sharp to be eligible. Pick up your weapons by the door—and have fun!"

-----

Well, that was how John had gotten here, skulking around the city with a water gun. He personally couldn't think of a more ridiculous thing to be doing in the city of the Ancients. After all, the place had been carefully designed to keep water _out. _Yet here they were, blithely soaking the place with water guns.

Hoping perhaps to avoid the entire thing, he began to look around for a suitably out-of-the-way room where he could hide from the others. He soon found a doorway off to the side of a darkened hallway. It looked as desolate a place as any, he thought as he opened the door and ducked inside.

Suddenly, he was drenched in a sheet of ice cold water. Immediately afterward, a bucket smacked into his head, knocking him off balance. He fell to the floor and lay still.

"John?" a worried voice asked._ Teyla! _he thought. He kept his eyes closed, and made certain not to move. "John, are you alright?"

He heard rustling as she got down from a pile of crates stacked by the door. A few seconds later, he felt a cool hand smoothing his soaked hair back from his forehead.

He quickly raised his water gun and fired; a long stream of icy water hit Teyla right in the chest. This produced a most undignified squeal, causing John to laugh out loud.

"John!" she shouted angrily, despite the fact that she was fighting back a smile. "That was unfair!"

"And who set the trap that beans people on the head with a bucket?" he asked with a smirk as he stood up.

"That wasn't supposed to hit you," she said defensively. "I was holding it and my fingers slipped."

"Sure they did," John said with a disbelieving look. Teyla smacked him in the arm. "Hey! What was that for?" he asked, rubbing his arm with a mock hurt look.

"For teasing me, John Sheppard." she replied. "Now why did you even come in this room? I was trying to avoid the games by hiding out in here, and it was working quite well until you came along."

John grinned sheepishly. "I was actually trying to do the same thing, before you decided to dump a swimming pool on my head."

Teyla didn't acknowledge him. For some reason, she stared at his forehead instead. At least that was where he thought she was looking.

"What?" John asked, suddenly feeling self-conscious.

"Your hair actually does go flat," she replied, smothering a grin. John shot a hand up to feel his hair. Sure enough, it was as flat as a pancake and plastered to his skull. He scrubbed at it with his hand, feeling it go spiky again.

"That better?" he asked.

"Much," came the amused reply.

"Well, neither of us are going to get the 'driest person award' " John said as he surveyed their soaked attire.

"There is a way," Teyla said.

John looked up from his sopping shirt. "How?" he asked.

"By making sure everyone else is wetter than we are," Teyla replied.

John smiled. "Sounds like a plan," he said. "Ladies first," he continued, gesturing toward the door.

Teyla rolled her eyes and passed him, heading into the corridor. John followed, then promptly squirted her in the back with his gun.

"Hey!" she shouted indignantly. John turned tail and fled, laughing. Teyla ran after him, smiling and taking shots whenever she got the chance.

They passed a marine lurking in the shadows, but he just let them go. They were having too much fun for him to interrupt.

-----

Just as Elizabeth was about to begin the "awards ceremony," John and Teyla strolled into the mess hall. They quickly seated themselves at a table, and Elizabeth began to speak. "Well, after a long and arduous judging," here most of the room snickered, "we have finally reached a decision. The award for the driest person at the end of the game goes to . . . Ronon Dex!"

With a self-satisfied look on his face, a bone-dry Ronon stepped forward to receive his prize. When he realized it was a giant, brightly colored Supersoaker, his face fell—causing another eruption of laughter.

Once Ronon had taken his seat and the room quieted down, Elizabeth continued. "We also have decided to give an award for the wettest person. The winner is . . . Dr. Rodney McKay!"

An extremely annoyed McKay made his way to the front of the room, leaving a trail of water in his wake. The entire room burst into laugher at his drenched appearance, and again when he received his prize—a big, fluffy towel.

"Well, that's it for the games, people!" Elizabeth said. "I hope you all enjoyed yourselves. Everybody go dry off!"

Ronon and Rodney soon found their way to the table where John and Teyla were seated. As he sat down, Ronon plunked his garishly colored Supersoaker onto the table. McKay collapsed into the seat next to him. Rodney had draped his new towel around his neck and was sipping a glass of ice water.

"Well, looks like you two enjoyed yourselves," John said.

Ronon grinned. "I did."

"Of course you did! You kept stalking me all around the city with that stupid water gun!" McKay cried indignantly. "I, for one, did _not _have a good time!"

"Maybe if you knew how to use a gun, you would've been able to get a shot in," Ronon teased.

McKay looked like he was going to say something, but then reached over and dumped his glass of water over Ronon's dreads. While John and Teyla tried to suppress their laughter, Ronon reached for his brand-new Supersoaker and squirted it into Rodney's already drenched shirt. The scientist started to splutter something about shooting wounded men, but John just smiled. It had been a great day.

The End


End file.
